We all need Hope
by ziva-abby11
Summary: Set after Season 2 finale. contains obvious spoilers from the episode John is left suffering in the world, losing more hope day after day until he receives a letter and hope begins to come back into John's life. I'm rubbish at these, please just read the story :D
1. Chapter 1

**For Jennie, my Sherlock buddie and Katie, my inspiration to write.**

Disclaimer - I do not in any way, shape or form own Sherlock or the characters related. Everything is used for the purpose of entertainment.

The world keeps turning, and I watch through a window. My best friend is gone and the truth about it all, I didn't realise I would miss him this much, the annoying man he was. Since he took that step of the roof my whole world has been taken from beneath my feet and I don't know if I will ever get it back again.

People seem to think that with me being a soldier and a doctor as well, that somehow this would be easy for me, that death would not affect me in anyway. But my days in a war zone are far behind me and Sherlock Holmes was not a soldier.

My head constantly pounds and my eyes are always bloodshot, my hand has not been away from some form of alcoholic substance since the funeral. Everybody treats me like a grieving widow and to be honest I do not even care that they think I'm gay because the only opinion that matters to me anymore is the publics of Sherlock.

For several weeks afterwards I could not leave the flat because reporters would cram outside the door, ready to throw questions at me and the one they wanted me to answer the most: did I know my best friend, Sherlock Holmes, was a fraud.

Mrs Hudson would pester me every day, asking me what she should do with his things and whether I wanted her to take flowers to his grave and I honestly didn't care because his things being around weren't going to bring him back and neither was flowers on his grave.  
I lost communication completely with Mycroft, blaming him for all of it, making him well aware that he was the reason his little brother was dead.

One day, I had had enough; I stormed out of the flat into the tidal wave of reporters and yelled at them in disgust. A good man was dead and all they cared about was a news article. A news article and a false one at that. Sherlock Holmes was not a fraud, he was a brilliant man and no one could ever convince me he told me a lie.

I don't know what made me yell, whether it was all of the sentimental cards and sympathetic phone calls or the thoughts that kept floating round my head. Like did he lie and was my whole experience with him false. But the one nagging sensation that wouldn't go away was the tiny bit of hope left inside me, shrinking more and more every day. Hope that I wouldn't be on my own, that my best friend would come through the door of 221b and flash me a quirky smile that meant this was all one of his schemes. But of course it did not happen and the only person who came through the door was Mrs Hudson asking me whether I fancied a cup of tea. The day I yelled at the reporters, that was the day I lost all my hope and why ever since then I have refused to talk to anybody. But three days ago I received a letter through the letter box and all of my hope has been restored.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

**Enjoy xx**

Dear Doctor Watson,

I know you must be tired of the sympathetic phone calls and the sorrow filled letters but it is of the highest importance that you continue to read this letter. Of course I am full of remorse for you and it must be hard dealing with what you have gone through however I am no longer filled with sorrow as I have information about the allegedly "dead" Sherlock Holmes.

My identity is of no importance really however I shall tell you anyway, my name is Natalia Relda and I am 14 years old. I feel the need to tell you my story from the beginning for you to understand the details of why I have written to you.  
Unlike most, I knew of Mr Holmes before he made his name in the media. He assisted my Mother when I was 8 years old in trying to find a stolen diamond necklace and it is now that I will state that there is no way Mr Holmes was a fraud, unless he made the cow at a farm we visited for my birthday that year digest my Mothers necklace. His superior intelligence and intellect had such an impression on me that since that day I have aspired to be a detective. After the case, Mr Holmes and I exchanged several small letters discussing his extraordinary cases and strange occurrences which happened in my life (although there were not many of them).  
When I first saw that article about Mr Holmes being a fraud in the newspaper, I was outraged and wrote a letter to him at once to discuss the matter however the reply I received very much confused me. This is how it went:

_Natalia,_

_Believe everything you read in the papers as it is all true. You should stay away from me. You are a very bright girl compared to most your age and are not utterly stupid. Keep chasing your aspiration to become a detective; they will need someone like you when I am gone._

- SH

As previously stated Doctor Watson I was extremely confused and could not make sense of the letter. Then I saw the newspapers and was heartbroken, I did not go to school for two days because I was in so much shock. I attended his funeral where I saw you, though I doubt that you would have seen me, the tears falling from your eyes left me heartbroken.  
One month after the funeral, I was in a Science lesson and was bored due to the fact we were learning about the solar system, how pointless? Anyway, due to my boredom I looked out of the classroom window to see a figure stood by a dustbin that looked at me directly in the eye. I gasped in shock because I recognised those eyes; they were the ice blue eyes of Sherlock Holmes. I immediately got myself excused from the lesson to visit the ladies room and rushed to the bin but by the time I reached it, he was gone. Although an envelope was taped to the bin with an note scribbled on top of it.

_Natalia,_

_Please send this package to Doctor John Watson at 221b Baker Street, London. He will know what it means._

_- An Old Friend_

That is why Doctor Watson I must ask you a favour, as I break for summer vacation next week, please may I come down to 221b with the package for you to open? I appreciate that this is a big ask but I want to help you.

Keep hope Doctor Watson, I am certain he is still out there.

Yours Faithfully

Natalia Relda

**Reviews are appreciated xx**


	3. Chapter 3

Today is the day that Natalia is coming with that package. My mind has not stopped spinning since I first read the letter, repeating every word like a young girl and her favourite song. I've not slept for days because hope keeps bubbling around me and making my stomach flutter.

Mrs Hudson is fed up with me as every time the doorbell rings I shoot to it like a bullet from a gun knocking anything in my path, including her teapot which has landed me in a considerable amount of trouble.

I do not know what excites me the most, the possibilities of what the package might be or meeting the closest thing Sherlock Holmes has ever had to a friend.

As I write this instalment, it is approximately noon and judging by the clouds we are in for a storm in around the next half an hour. Since I lost him, I have read anything he has ever written in the hope of educating me in some of his ways and I seem to have prospered. For example from the amount of creases in Greg's suit, I have pieced together that his wife has walked out on him again and therefore he has nobody to iron for him. Donovan and Anderson are still having their affair as far as I can tell but the redness around Donovan's eyes and the lack of the scent of Anderson's deodorant informed me that they had some form of fight and I believe that it's over Anderson's wife seeing as he was fidgeting with his ring for the rest of the day.

I have no clue whether my newly found abilities are making me any wiser however I do know that I really want to continue the legacy of his knowledge but that may not be needed now that I have the hope that he is alive.

I do apologise for the shortness of this instalment however I am certain that the next few days will provide me with enough stories, so that I will never be able to stop writing again.


	4. Chapter 4

**The new installment, please enjoy :)**

The doorbell at 221b rang at around 12:30, just as a storm began across the London sky. John raced to the door and opened it to find a girl of about 5 foot 6 height with auburn curls which hung loosely around her shoulders. Her eyes were a light sky blue which brightened up her ruby red cheeks. These were usually quite a pale pink but in her excitement of reaching John, she had run through the streets of London causing her to become short of breath. She was wearing an olive green summer dress which finished just below her knees with a small black cardigan wrapped around her shoulders. In her hand she held a deep purple coloured suitcase and over her shoulder was a handbag which had an image of a pug covering it. She looked up at John with friendly eyes and put out her hand. John shook it while the girl introduced herself as Natalia. "Of course", John beamed, "Please come in, and would you like a cup of tea?" He guided her up the stairs while pointing at his room, "This room will be yours while you stay". He was giving her his room while he slept on the couch, he did not want to disturb Sherlock's room and hadn't since that terrible day.

Natalia sat down on one of the armchairs in the room and pulled out the parcel from her handbag which she had still perched on her shoulder. "I suppose you'll want to open this as soon as possible?" she said, smiling at John warmly as he hastily took the parcel from her hands.  
The parcel had been wrapped in brown paper and tied with a string. It felt squidgy to touch almost as if it was a jumper or scarf but John decided it could not be either of those because he wouldn't have a connection to them. He untied the string with trembling hands, Natalia's eyes gleaming in anticipation. He pulled it open to discover two objects. One was wrapped in another layer of brown paper while the other was not. He lifted it from the wrapping to discover a bright orange blanket. He began to laugh. Natalia was happy with his reaction knowing that it meant he recognised it and that gave her hope but she wanted to know the connection.  
"It's a shock blanket!" was the only comment she received.

After several more moments of John laughing and Natalia beginning to think that John was in shock he calmed down and began to explain.  
"He could never grasp the point of a shock blanket and from what I can gather I have been sent this in order to tell me that I am in for a shock!"  
Natalia smiled knowing that this was good news, as it was a personal joke between the two and that Sherlock Holmes coming back would be a tremendous shock!  
She reached across to John, who was still smiling at the shock blanket covering his lap, and touched his knee. He looked up and turned to face her.  
"You still have the other parcel to open!" she said with a smile on her face, laughing at how John still couldn't wipe the smile from his.

John turned to the other parcel and picked it up….

**Cliffhanger, what do you think mystery parcel two contains? Leave me a review and let me know! Thanks for reading :)**


End file.
